Who Are You?
by katesmak
Summary: Oliver Kane is out for drinks one night by herself after being dumped suddenly by her boyfriend, when her usual bar is infiltrated by a bunch of strange(hot)men claiming to the countries personified. What happens when she ends up mixed up in their bizarre schemes? Rated T because sadly Oliver has Romano's colorful vocabulary. Possible pairings later.


**A/N: So this story is just something random I came up with one night when I couldn't sleep and wondered what would happen if the identities of the counrties were comprimised by a single girl at a bar. And it just sounded so funny I had to write it and so this is what happened! Please enjoy!**

**Prussia: Kate does not, and probably never will, own mine or Hetalia's awesomeness. Bow to my awesomeness!**

**XxX**

One night after the world meeting that day, America had decide to go to a bar for a few drinks. England feeling like he had to be the responsible one, went with America to keep him from getting to drunk, really wanting a drink himself.

France followed England, seeming to be planning something perverted, Prussia and Spain came with their friend to make the whole thing less suspicious.

Spain wanted to bring Romano along just to see how tipsy he could get the Italian.

Italy seeing Romano being dragged away by Spain thought that this would be a lot of fun and decided he would follow them, bringing Germany with him knowing how much the strict blonde nation loved his beer.

Germany called Japan to invite him, but South Korea was the one who answered and showed up.

How the Nordics got the memo nobody had a clue.

Somewhere along the way this little bar trip had turned into a huge party, the bar they were at was completely cleared out except for the countries. Or was it?

At one point a little into everything, after the bartender had(finally) cut England off, everyone began to cause trouble, more than the trouble they already caused on a regular basis, of course.

England giggled reaching over to pat America's shoulder, only to miss and slap himself. "Well~ 'ey evewyone!" He slurred petting his cheek now, "Iv I'm not ere for th' meeting yesterday, jus' so ya know Scotland probly locked me in the clos~et."

He giggled again, America just rolled his eyes and pretended he wasn't related to this man.

Off to the side Italy was on his... well lets just say he was on a much higher amount of wine than England had gotten to in scotch. The North half of Italy hiccuped and rambled on about how many different types of pasta dishes there were and the good points to all of them. Germany who sat at a small table with the nonstop babbling, just ordered another beer and attempted to cut off the pasta lover.

Romano and Spain were sitting across the room from them, having a normal evening, at least in their standards. Which included Romano shouting across the room at the 'potato bastard' who was getting his little brother drunk for supposedly malicious reasons. Spain just continued to smile and pull on the Italian's curl every time he started to get especially violent putting a constant blush on the man's face.

Prussia was laughing with Denmark watching France crawl army style to the table where Romano was sitting. They were waiting for the explosion that was sure to happen when the dirty mouthed Italian saw him.

"Oh, West is gonna be so hung over in the morning! It'll be awesome!" The only side effects to Prussia drinking was that he got much louder and tended to stop thinking when he spoke. Not that he ever thought before he spoke anyway.

Denmark laughed as well, "You think Germany's going to be hung over dude look in a mirror!"

Denmark had somehow gotten ahold of the huge ass battle axe he owned, Norway was trying to figure that out considering that he could have sworn he had confiscated it last week after a certain incident involving his hair, the pieces he usually held back with his cross finally grew back to the same length as the rest of his hair. Denmark had apparently been sleep walking that same night and proceeded to cut it back to its short length with that stupid axe, on accident so he says. But here he was with the cross still holding back the flyaways.

The bartender looked slightly nervous at the idea of a man who'd had one to many swinging a battle axe like it was a piece of string. Though all the other Nordics knew that there was nothing to worry about because even as sloshed as he was Denmark was experienced enough to use that weapon in his sleep. At one point he actually had, the spiky haired Nordic, during his more violent viking days, had once rushed into battle with that axe and none of them knew till later that Denmark had been sleeping the entire time, the evidence of this is that he never remembered anything about it. Still doesn't at that.

The other Nordics were mostly sober, except for Iceland who clung to his onii-chan with a goofy smile going on and on about his evil twin Greenland and how he hated the other island country, how he had stolen his name and some other things that weren't really decipherable.

"Hey Norway why aren't you having anything?" Finland asked curiously to the mysterious blonde nation.

Norway kind of smirked a bit, "Well because me and Denmark should never be in the same room after both of us having a few drinks," Norway looked at the silver haired country clinging to his arm, "And who else would take these morons home?"

Finland nodded agreeing with Norway, considering he certainly didn't want the responsibility of taking either of those two home, especially wasted like they were.

Sweden walked up just then, he had gone to get another drink from the bar, probably at about the same amount as the Dane and Icelander. He was surprisingly still completely sober.

"Hey Finny come on have a drink!"Said Dane shouted to the smaller nation, trying to push a glass into his hands.

Sweden took the glass and passed it off to the ecstatic Iceland, "N' g'tt'ng m' w'f' dr'nk," Denmark pouted.

"Come on Sweden, no one has ever seen Finny drunk," The Swede knew that and knew the exact reason for that too.

The last time Sweden had let Finland drink was when he was at an important meeting. The nation had been having a bad day and, since he kept none of the poison in his house, went and raided Sweden's cabinet while he was at said meeting with his boss.

When Sweden had returned home he found the place a complete mess, beer cans strewn everywhere as well as at least one bottle of Schnapps that was completely empty.

When he later found Finland the smaller nation was holed up under a bed in the spare room, a military rifle at attention and a sniper over his shoulder. Where he got the weapons nobody knew but the young Finlander swore that someone was in the house trying to assassinate him and couldn't be coaxed out from under the bed, almost pulling the trigger on Sweden many times, eventually he passed out. Sweden made sure to take away the firearms before carefully pulling him out and laying him on a bed with items to nurse the hangover that was soon to come.

The Swedish male looked at Denmark, Finland was blushing at Sweden's next words, "S'v' y'rs'lf."

The tall Dane just leaned on his axe with a confused look before going back to talking with Prussia.

Austria, who plays the piano here every Friday night, was also quite tipsy and would play a series of notes and mess up on a key. He would then restart with a smile, playing the same notes again before messing up on the same, exact key. The Austrian did this probably three more times before Hungary smashed him in the head with her trusty frying pan.

"Ow... Hungary what was that for?" The dark haired aristocrat asked rubbing his newly acquired wound.

The usually sweet Hungarian glared at him, "If you play those notes one more time..." She growled letting him decided what the end of the threat would have been.

South Korea was passed out on a table before anyone noticed he was there.

But for some of the still sober, which was a very small number, nations they felt something slightly off like they were missing a person. Not the usual Canadian either, he hadn't come because of a cold he had caught at a meeting from a certain British gentleman.

America looked around the room for that one thing, the one off thing about this place. When a large purse was dropped into the counter next to him he realized it.

"Damn those fucking idiots," the young woman mumbled under her breathe hopping onto the barstool next to the surprised America.

America blinked, he seemed to realize how bad this was, there was a girl sitting next to him, who wasn't a nation but had probably been listening this whole time while everyone was shouting out each others country instead of name, as they usually would at such a public place. But no one thought that there would be anyone brave enough to stay in the same bar as all of them. This was really bad.

"Sheesh you would think after being here an hour they would at least somewhat notice you, but no." She said with a frustrated sigh, "Guess my mom was right, I really am invisible to guys."

**XxX**

**Aww... Poor Oliver makes me sad! Sorry for the kind of cliffhanger there but I felt it was a good place to stop!**

**Spain: tomatoes only .50 cents for throwing at the author!**

**Hey I thought you were supposed to be the nice one!**

**Oliver, England, America, etc.: I'll take one!**

**Oh, this is bad, well until next chapter! *Avoids tomatoes being thrown* Bye!**


End file.
